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Forgetting You

Page 53

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He looked down at my body then back up to my eyes. “It’s not that different – I dunno why it’s considered plus-size. It’s a few extra inches, no big deal.”

“Not that different? No big deal?” I repeated, dumbfounded. “I have love handles and back fat. I’ve never had either of those. My thighs barely touched before and now they practically clap with every step I take.”

Elliot put his hand over his face to cover his smile. I didn’t feel like laughing, I felt like crying.

“I’m fat.”

“You’re chubby.”

I shook my head. “I don’t need you to make me feel better by choosing terms that aren’t as harsh. I need you to understand what I’m saying. Being fat isn’t the issue, it’s the fact that I don’t know this body. Nothing feels familiar, nothing feels like what I’ve always known. I’m not comfortable in this skin. I don’t feel like me at all, Elliot.” I felt his arms wrap around me and I was so relieved that they still fucking fit around me. “I know how it must sound. Like I’m having a meltdown over being fat, but being heavy isn’t the problem, it’s being in a body that I don’t know that’s really hard for me to come to terms with. D’you understand?”

“Yeah, Nono. I know what you mean.”

I pressed my face against his chest. “Elliot, I have a FUPA now.”

“Honey,” he laughed as he hugged me tightly to him. “Ye sound like havin’ a tummy is the saddest thing in the world.”

“It’s not. It’s just a shock to suddenly be in a body that has things I’ve never had before. I wouldn’t expect someone who has a body like yours to understand,” I grumbled as I leaned back and looked at him. “With your eight-pack and your pecs, and those lines on your hips . . . d’you still have those?”

“Ye saw in the bathroom that I do.”

“Did I?” I blinked. “I can’t remember. I have amnesia, you know? Show me.”

With a grin, he lifted up his T-shirt and showed me that he did, in fact, still possess everything I’d just mentioned.

“Cover up.” I gulped. “This is a hospital, my heart rate will go up. That’s not a good thing here.”

He laughed and let his shirt fall back into place, but before I could say another word, he crouched down, placed his hands on my hips and gave me a big kiss on the stomach.

“I like your FUPA,” he said, standing up. “I like your bum, your love handles, your back fat and everything about your beautiful new body. I like it all.”

I turned my head away from him as I smiled, and he snorted and turned me back to face him with a simple touch of his fingertips on my cheek.

“Tell me ye like your FUPA too.”

I blinked. “Are you serious?”

“Think of body positivity.”

“Give me one positive thing about this body!” I demanded. “Go on, give me one!”

“Your tits and arse are bigger.” He grinned. “That’s two.”

“Elliot!”

I swung my hand at him as I laughed, and he caught my arm and tugged me against his chest. All laughter fled when Elliot leaned down and rested his forehead against mine, and he closed his eyes as if savouring the moment.

“I’ve missed this. Doin’ silly things like this with ye.” He squeezed me. “I’ve really missed you, Noah.”

My heart hurt for him, and it struck me that he would never have been the one to break up with me. He had always loved me like a man was supposed to love his woman. He was the man you read about in books or saw in films. He was one of the good ones.

“I hurt you, didn’t I?”

He didn’t answer.

“Was I the one to leave?”

Elliot kissed my forehead. “Yes,” he whispered.

“Oh, love, I’m so sorry.” I lifted my hands to his face. “I’m so sorry, I wish I could take it back. Please, forgive me. Please. I love you, Elliot. I love you so much.”

I made a decision then that changed everything. Up until that moment, I’d been reminding myself of Anderson, of who he was to me, but no matter how many times I told myself that there was a reason I was with him and not Elliot, I couldn’t change how I felt about Elliot. I loved him so deeply that I was hurting myself by stopping myself from being with him.

I hurt for Anderson and I felt horrible for him, because while the 2020 version of myself had chosen him, he didn’t stand a chance with the 2015 woman I still was deep down. My heart was Elliot’s, and if I woke up tomorrow and got my memories back, I would deal with the consequences of my actions then. My accident had taught me that nothing was permanent, and that life was promised to no one. I wanted to live the remainder of my life on my terms.



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